Ghosts from the Past
by Sue Penkivech
Summary: Two years after the events of "Just Kids", someone unexpected walks back into Bobby and Kitty's lives...
1. Default Chapter

*Sigh*  Standard disclaimer.  I don't own the X-Men, I don't own Kitty and Bobby, I'm not making any money off of this.  

Thanks go out to Beaubier for beta-reading, to everyone who threatened my life if I stopped writing Bobby and Kitty's adventures, and, most especially, to Luba Kmetyk, without whose prompting I probably would have never written their adventures in the first place.  Happy Birthday, Luba!

**_Ghosts from the Past_**

**_Prologue_**

Kitty glanced over at the table nervously, taking in the candles, the bottle of wine, the matching stoneware plates that represented their best dishes.  Was it too much?  Not enough?  What would Bobby think?

She took a deep breath and let it out, letting the tension in her neck and shoulders drain out with it.  Bobby wouldn't complain, regardless what she did – or didn't do – to make their anniversary special, she reminded herself.  She wondered if he'd even remembered it; he'd been out the door before she'd even gotten out of the shower that morning, having yelled something in about a breakfast meeting with a client.  

Two years.  Damn, she couldn't believe it had already been two years since Bobby Drake's irresistible grin had first swept her off her feet – or knocked her off them, she corrected herself as she smiled nostalgically.  It seemed as if they were always knocking each other over, back then.

But she really wasn't complaining.  They'd been the happiest two years of her life, after all, though at the beginning she'd had her doubts.  It had been an…adjustment, to say the least, and for a while she'd wondered if they would make it.  Not as a couple – despite the reservations expressed by their friends, she'd never really doubted that - but as _normal _people.

Of course, she reflected, the power fluctuations Bobby'd been experiencing back then hadn't help from that standpoint.  She'd put her own business plans on hold, temporarily, to keep _his_ business going when things had gotten so bad it really wasn't safe, either for him or for anyone else, for him to leave the range of the power suppressor she'd designed.  Even his ridiculous "power belt" hadn't compensated sufficiently for the extremes of temperature he'd been generating, and Hank had insisted that a nullification collar, which Bobby had practically begged for before things had finally turned around, would have made the situation far worse, in the long run.  And she'd promised him at the time, with heavy reservations, that they would _not_ move back to the mansion, no matter what.  Their lives, their futures, had moved away from that path.

She'd learned a lot, then, she knew, far more than she would have had her original plans panned out.  She'd handled the "in person" aspects of running an accounting business while still going to school – gone to meetings, given presentations, even dug through mildewy old records – while Bobby had crunched numbers through the computer and conference-called remotely from home.  She'd learned all about prejudice, back then, and the many forms it came in; she was young, female, Jewish, and a mutant, and for a time it seemed as if everyone held all of those things against her, equally.  She'd hated it nearly as much as she'd hated standing in front of a roomful of people, presenting information she didn't _really_ understand, but as her confidence grew so did her competence.  In retrospect, she knew she'd have had a hard time getting started with her own consulting business if she _hadn't_ acquired those skills first.  Many of Bobby's customers from that time were hers now, as well.  And gradually, oh, so gradually, Bobby had regained control, and things had gone back to normal.

She grinned as she remembered the first _date_ they'd had once he finally felt comfortable leaving the apartment, and the delight and relief on Bobby's face at simply being _outside_ once again.  She hadn't realized, until that moment, just how much being closed up in the apartment day after day for four months had bothered him.  He'd never said a word, neither then nor now, but she knew.  

But that was a year and a half ago, and things gotten progressively better since.  Her own business had taken off once Bobby had recovered from his 'surgery', and despite her initial reservations, since her graduation in May she'd had all she could do to keep up with the demand.  She _should_ have spent this afternoon getting her information together on the new security system she'd designed for Nortax, she remembered guiltily.  She forced herself to push the thought aside, even as she glanced longingly at her laptop on the table across the room. Some things never changed; just as she had back when she and Bobby were investigating the Neo, she still felt inordinately guilty about taking time off when she had work to do. 

Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall across the room, she realized that Bobby was due home within the next fifteen minutes.  Not that that meant much, she acknowledged.  Bobby was nearly as likely as she was herself to get home late, though she conceded that he was also far more likely than she to arrive early.  It seemed as if something always came up at the last moment…

The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts, and her face screwed itself up with confusion.  Who in the world would be ringing the bell at this time of day?  Kurt was usually their only unexpected visitor, and he'd popped in early that morning.  Lockheed appeared, apparently from nowhere, but most likely from the window in the office which received the most light at this time of day, and flew at the door, hissing.  She looked at him with surprise, even as she cautiously made her way across the room.  It wasn't like Lockheed to come out for the doorbell, and his reaction…her body, honed initially by years as an X-Man and more recently by frequent visits to the dojo, tensed up as her hand grasped the doorknob and turned it.

The sight outside was the last one she would have expected, and she felt her face grow pale.  Outside the door, wearing a wrinkled white shirt, black pants, and a black tie, none of which looked as if they'd been washed or ironed in the recent past, stood someone she'd never expected to see again.

"Pete?" she questioned hesitantly, wondering if it were truly him, or some sort of facsimile.  But the sarcastic smile that formed on his face answered her question, and Lockheed's attempt to push the door shut confirmed it. 

"Hullo Pryde, long time, no see, hey?  Hope I ain't interruptin' nothin'.  I need yer help.  Think you could get the flying rat to move out of the way so I can come in?"

**********************************************

Bobby entered the florist's shop at a run, nearly bowling over an elderly lady in a loud, flower print dress, who turned to glare at him indignantly.  He smiled sheepishly and shrugged, then glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Damn, that was a relief – it was earlier than he'd thought.  The battery in his watch had died earlier that week, and he hadn't gotten around to replacing it yet.  He caught his breath, and turned to the case to pick out some flowers.  While he knew red roses were normally appropriate, he also knew Kitty wasn't all that fond of red roses…maybe yellow?

Two years, he realized as he picked out a mixed bouquet instead in the bright colors he knew she preferred.  He still couldn't believe it'd been two years since Kitty nearly knocked him off the front porch of the mansion with the door and he'd fallen for – no, more like into - those huge brown eyes.  Chuckling to himself as he made his way to the counter, he considered that it was even less believable that she had stuck with him for two years.  It wasn't as if things had been smooth sailing… 

They'd done ok, though, he reminded himself.  There was no way he could have made it through his "cold" period by himself; neither sane nor with his business intact.  He had Kitty to thank for it all, and he knew it.  He just wondered if she knew just how much he appreciated it.

Probably not, he admitted.  Kitty never seemed to realize just how amazing she was, and still laughed at him when he tried to tell her.  Just _how_ she managed to accomplish everything amazed him – the workload with her clients was astronomical, and she was now considering grad school.  

He hoped she'd decide to go, he thought as he paid for the flowers and left the shop, noting as he passed that the woman he'd bumped into was still glaring at him.  They'd manage the bills somehow, even if she had to stop working for the duration.  While she was a terrific computer tech, he knew that wasn't what she'd rather be doing, at least not long-term.  He'd heard the excitement in her voice as she'd described thee reactor project she'd worked on during her internship last year, and the proposals Dr. Benes had made for the next stage.  _That_ was where she belonged, not fixing people's file and print servers and implementing firewalls. 

But it was her decision, he reminded himself.  And grinned, putting his hand into the pocket of his jacket and feeling the small, square box within.  Hopefully tonight he'd get up the nerve to ask her something else she'd need to make a decision on.  He only hoped she'd say yes.

He really wasn't sure if she would.

He made his way over to the little red convertible they'd bought second hand last year when his Pinto had finally breathed its last, then opened the door and hopped in, setting the flowers down on the passenger's seat.  Maybe he should just hold off, he reasoned.  It wasn't as if they weren't living together already; why take the chance of screwing everything up?  

No reason – except he loved her.  And that, he told himself firmly, was reason enough. 

Besides, he wasn't sure if he could wait any longer; since the idea had taken hold of him the month before he'd thought of virtually nothing else.  He'd been so nervous this morning he'd taken off while she was in the shower, uncertain that he'd be able to last until dinner otherwise.  He hadn't even, he realized suddenly, wished her Happy Anniversary.  And laughed.  She'd probably figure he'd forgotten.

He pulled into his parking spot at their apartment, jumped out of the car, and made it half-way to the building before remembering that he'd left the flowers on the seat.  After he retrieved them, he retraced his steps back to the building and opened the door and began the trek up to the third floor.  Maybe next year they'd have the money to start looking for a house.  While he really couldn't complain about their apartment, or their neighbors (with the exception of the one couple who'd filed a complaint about all the "strange looking characters" who visited them), at twenty-six he was getting tired of renting.  Maybe next year…

He paused at the door to the apartment to pull his hand absently through his hair, and had put his hand on the doorknob before he realized he heard voices inside.  Damn, talk about timing.  If Kurt and Amanda were over again he was going to scream – he loved them dearly, but he had _other_ plans for tonight, once that wouldn't be enhanced by the presence of the elf and the sorceress…

He swung the door open, and saw Kitty sitting on the couch – and that she'd gotten dressed up for the occasion in a strappy green dress that barely reached mid-thigh.  And grinned, thinking of what they'd undoubtedly be doing after dinner.  But the grin slipped as he realized that the man sitting with her certainly bore no resemblance to the fuzzy elf…it took him a moment to realize just who it _was_, since he knew him only from pictures and mission logs.  And tried, really hard, not to jump to any conclusions, despite the dress, and the candle lit table, and the wine…

And managed to choke out, instead, "Pete Wisdom, I presume?"


	2. Chapter 1

Ghosts from the Past

By: Sue Penkivech

Chapter 1

"Oh shit," was Kitty's first thought as she saw the shocked expression on Bobby's face when he opened the door. This was not what she needed to top off Pete's sudden appearance and the news he'd just given her. Getting to her feet quickly, she skirted the coffee table and made her way over to where Bobby was standing, hoping she'd get there before Pete had a chance to say anything sarcastic.

"Wot, were you expecting the spandex brigade? Sorry to disappoint, but this is a private meeting, so sod off."

"Or something inflammatory," she added internally, sighing as she latched onto Bobby's arm before he could do just that. "Pete, knock if off, now," she told the Brit irritably, throwing him a dirty look. "Bobby has every right to be here, he lives here."

"Kitty, what's going on?" Bobby asked, his voice low and casual, but the shell-shocked look in his eyes and the way she could feel his arm tensing as if his hand was clenching and unclenching on something in his pocket belied his tone.

"Pete…just stopped by," she explained, deciding to keep it as simple as possible at this point. "He's got some news about Rachel."

"And if this is how you keep news quiet, Pryde, you've forgot everything I ever taught you about intelligence. Maybe I've come to th'wrong person after all," Pete complained as he got to his feet.

Before she could do more than register that, however, Bobby blurted out, "Rae? What's wrong with her? I talked to Jean this morning, she was just fine then…"

"Taking a deep breath and reminding herself firmly that she really didn't want to strangle either of the men in the room with her, she squeezed Bobby's arm reassuringly and answered him first.

"Not that Rachel, the other one," she replied with an idle thought as to just how odd that sounded, especially if you _did_ know the circumstances. "And you can sit your butt right back down," she directed toward Pete who, much to her surprise, did just that.

"That's my Pryde," he observed with a grin, and she felt Bobby tense up again.

God, what had she ever done to deserve this?

"No, I'm not," she answered Pete, shaking her head. "And if you want my help in this, you can stop playing games about it. Bobby's my…" she floundered for the best word, settling at last for, "boyfriend, and he has every right to know what's going on."

"Why, so he can go alert the X-Men?" Pete asked sarcastically. "Already told you, don't want them involved; if I were looking for a team I'd go hunt down my old mates from X-Force, wherever the hell they scattered off to. This one's you and me, Kitty. One last run for old time's sake."

"Would somebody please just tell me what's going on here?" Bobby implored, though Kitty noted that some of the desperation in his voice was gone, replaced by annoyance. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her mind was spinning in enough directions already; she didn't need Bobby's insecurities to surface for no good reason, even if Pete seemed determined to force things to go there.

There was no reason they should, she told herself firmly. While she was, of course, relieved that Pete was still alive (other than a rather intense desire to strangle him herself for faking his own death), her feelings for him had long since faded.

Hadn't they?

She had scant time to consider the implications of that thought, however, before things began to escalate yet again.

"Too much time in spandex suits cut off the blood flow to yer brain, Drake?" Pete replied, settling back on the couch and pulling a cigarette out of his pack. Which was enough, apparently, to set off Lockheed, who up until then had been fairly content to glare menacingly from the windowsill. Swooping down, he snatched the cigarette out of Pete's hand, then almost casually flew it over to the window and let it fall from his talons, turning back toward Pete with a smug look.

Bobby chuckled and slid his arm around her waist as she fought to keep from laughing herself. Apparently, some things never changed.

"I think Lockheed's trying to tell you that if you want to smoke you should take it outside," Bobby observed, and the dragon chimed in with a "Yah."

Pete shrugged casually and smirked at him. "Oh, I'll be leaving, Drake, don't worry. Soon as Kit's packed up and ready to go."

Oh shit, Kitty thought again as Bobby turned to stare at her, incredulous, and fought a sudden urge to facepalm. This wasn't how she'd wanted to tell Bobby, at all. And Pete just had to know that, had to know exactly what this would do to him...

"Umm…Kitty? I think we need to talk," Bobby said shakily, steering her toward the kitchen, and she went along without hesitation. Obviously, having the two of them in one room was an invitation for disaster at this point, though given the look Bobby and Lockheed had exchanged en route, she wasn't at all sure that Pete should be left alone with her dragon, either.

Once in the kitchen, Bobby dropped his arm from around her waist and with deliberate nonchalance leaned against the counter. "So, got something to tell me?" he asked with a grin that came nowhere near to reaching his eyes.

Taking a deep breath (and god, she seemed to be doing that a lot this evening), Kitty nodded.

"Pete…showed up about an hour ago," she began. "I wasn't sure it was even him, at first, but…well, Lockheed's reaction kind of confirmed it. It's really him."

"Okay," Bobby replied. "So, Wisdom came back from the dead. Did he fake it, or is he the new host for the Phoenix? If he is, we should let Jean know – she'll be jealous, I'm sure. Maybe take fewer chances on Logan's bike," he joked, not meeting her eyes.

Appearances notwithstanding, this wasn't a good sign, and she knew it. While Bobby was nowhere near as insecure as he'd been two years ago, she knew the indicators far too well. And lame jokes never failed to top the list.

"Bobby – what're you thinking?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm, and watched as he shrugged.

"Honestly, Kitty? I don't know what to think," he admitted as he laid the package he'd been holding down on the countertop. Flowers, now that she got a good look at it, and she felt her face flush despite everything. He hadn't forgotten, after all. His next words, however, brought her abruptly back to the present.

"You're…leaving with him?" he asked, his eyes finally meeting hers, and the pain and hurt she saw there cut into her deeply.

"Oh god, Bobby, not like _that_," she replied, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him, closing her eyes as he embraced her in turn, his head dropping to her shoulder. "Pete came to ask for my help on a mission, that's all. I'm not _leaving_."

"Why you?" he asked. "You gave up that stuff, Kit. Why doesn't he just –"

"Because he trusts me," she replied, pulling back a bit and fixing Bobby with a hurt look. "Don't you?"

"Of course I trust you," he replied quickly. "It's just…god, Kit, this is all a bit weird, don't you think? I mean, Wisdom –"

"Pete," she interjected by reflex, wincing inwardly as Bobby looked even more upset.

"Fine, Pete," Bobby replied, rolling his eyes. "Whatever – sorry, up until ten minutes ago he was a picture on your bulletin board. Now he shows up out of nowhere and you're talking about taking off with him on a mission to…what's this all about anyway?" he cut off abruptly, and she watched as she shook his head, his confusion evident. "You said something about Rachel? Wasn't she lost in the time stream or something?"

Kitty nodded, closing her eyes. Put that way, this all did seem more than a little odd. Unfortunately, she also knew that odd and Pete Wisdom tended to go hand in hand.

"Pete stumbled on some intelligence that indicates Sinister is back in business," she replied with what she hoped was a casual shrug. "The same source suggests that he's finally gotten his hands on a DNA sample he's always wanted, and that he has a new prisoner with unparalleled power. Given his fixation with the Summers' line in the past, and that Rachel was the last known host of the Phoenix…"

"Yeah, it makes sense," Bobby grudgingly conceded. "But Kitty, Sinister's about as serious as it gets. Don't you think you should get in touch with Jean and Logan, get a team involved…"

"No!" she said sharply, then shook her head. "Pete thinks – and I agree," she added quickly, holding up a hand to forestall any arguments to the contrary, "that if we go in with a full team he'll just cut his losses and blow the base. By all accounts, he isn't there himself, and it fits his mode of operations. We need more information, and now's the time to go in and get it, quietly. Go in, get out, _then_ send in a team. Besides, Jean'll want more proof than just Pete's word, you know that," she admonished, relaxing slightly as he nodded.

"She will, you're right. But, Kitty…let me come with you, at least," he begged, and she felt her stomach flip over. She hadn't lied to him, but…if the rest of Pete's intel was true, there was no way she was letting Bobby set foot anywhere near that base. Not if there was any way she could help it.

Shaking her head, she forced a smile and ran her fingertips down his face, hating what she was going to have to do and knowing that she had no choice, or at least, none she was willing to make. "Uh uh," she said. "You're our backup, whether Pete thinks we need one or not. You might want to get in touch with Logan, too," she added as if only just considering it. "Tell him to keep a close eye on Rae. If it _is_ Sinister, and he's got Rachel…" her voice tapered off as she watched the blood drain from Bobby's face, knowing she'd pressed the right button and hating herself for it. She knew just how much his redheaded goddaughter meant to him, and that having to keep her safe was likely to be the only way to keep him from following her.

And she had to keep him from following. Even without the intel, she knew, from personal experience, just who was likely to be guarding that base, whether she assured Bobby otherwise or not. She'd just gotten to remove one of the pictures from her bulletin board. There was no way she was adding another, especially not one of the man standing before her. Not now, not ever.

"Oh god…yeah, okay. You're just gonna go check it out, right?" he asked, and she nodded as she wrapped her arms around him once again.

"Just gonna go check it out," she repeated. "According to Pete's source, there's nothing to suggest Sinister's anywhere near the place, it's just a holding facility. We'll be fine, and I promise to check in, ok?"

"You'd better," he replied, his eyes haunted. "Kitty, I…"

Whatever he was going to say, however, was lost as a voice shot out from the other room. "If you two are done in there, we've got stuff to do, Pryde. Get your shit in order and let's get going."

"Now?" Bobby asked, and she could see the pain in his eyes as she nodded. "I…be careful, okay? I love you," he said, pulling her in tight against him.

Almost, her resolve broke, just then. Almost. "Always," she assured him as she leaned in to kiss him. "And I love you, too."

She couldn't tell him, though she knew that once the shock wore off slightly he'd probably guess. It was standard operating procedure, and he knew it as well as she did. And while she couldn't let Bobby come with her, she couldn't leave Rachel there, either, or whoever else it might be who Sinister was holding.

After all, if Sinister was back in business, it just stood to reason that so were the Marauders.

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First off, I want to say thank you for all the reviews on the Prologue, and the e-mails, IMs, comments in other story reviews, etc. that I've received since, asking when I planned to continue this. Unfortunately, I was tied up with other things, and writing took a low priority for a while. I promise, it WON'T take another year to update again!

Second, I wanted to invite any and all 616 fans out there to come take a look at a new RPG that Oldprydefan and I have started over on ezBoard. The name is Excalibur Redrawn, and it's taking place post-Onslaught. The link's in my profile – we're currently accepting applications, and the game should be starting soon!


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